Happy Tears
by Web of Obsidian
Summary: Didn't matter what the occasion was, they always set a place for him. "But you didn't know I was coming. Why would you set me a place?" "Because we always do! It's Christmas, you moron."


**I'd been meaning to write this for a while, but I never got around to it until about midnight. Here you go, another fluffy one-shot.**

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They always set him a place. Didn't matter what the occasion was, they always set a place for him at the table. When they were at home and Amy decided to actually cook instead of sticking a frozen dinner in the microwave, she would cook enough for three. A white plate with a napkin and silverware on a blue tablecloth would be set aside, just in case he ever showed up.

Amy's birthday rolled around, and they hung TARDIS-blue balloons up, because they knew he would appreciate it. There was a place set aside for a person who never came.

Father's Day arrived. Rory's dad had been out golfing that whole day, but father and son did get a chance to talk. River dropped by to visit her dad, and they went out for ice cream sundaes. Amy stopped by the market on the way home and picked up fish fingers and some custard, just in case their son-in-law stopped by. They did the same for Mother's Day as well.

Easter came and went, and while the Pond-William clan had never been very religious, they still had a lovely dinner. Nobody asked about the plate sitting at the opposite end of the table.

Rory's birthday came after that. There was a party thrown for him by his mum and dad (even River showed up – they didn't bother asking how she knew to come when she hadn't even been invited), and after that Amy cooked up a special dinner just for him. A bowl of untouched pasta sat on the countertop.

Summer drifted past, merging into autumn and turning the leaves all sorts of shades. There were a few brief visits from River, but nothing important happened. The ground slowly turned brown with dead leaves, the trees skeletal branches swayed in the wind, and the sky's vibrant blue dulled to a grayer tone. Amy had started selling perfume, pulling up names from their past adventures – _Petrichor_, _Vortex_, and _Something Blue_, to name a couple.

Their first Christmas in their new home was next. There was a huge dinner with the extended family that they hosted, but looking at the mess afterwards they decided it would just be the two of them the following year. Only one plate and set of silverware was left clean, untouched on its blue mat. There were still a few packages wrapped underneath the tree.

The following year went the same as the first, for the most part. River would stop by once a month or so. They still set a place for him at the table, keeping their fridge stocked with custard and the freezer with fish fingers. A small stack of gifts, odd trinkets and the like, began collecting dust in a closet. The Ponds and the Williams families were confused as to why there was always an extra space whenever they ate, but they never asked, Amy and Rory never clarified, and that was that.

Their birthdays came again, holidays flew by, and then they were sitting at the table with quiet music in the background and a fire in the fireplace. Rory would laugh as Amy grew increasingly frustrated with the carolers outside, but even he grew annoyed at the interruptions and got her a water pistol.

Then there was a knock at the door. Amy huffed, snatching up said water pistol and striding towards the door.

"If that is more carol singers," she shouted as she made her way to the front door, "I have a water pistol! You don't want to be all wet on a night like this-"

The door was flung open, and the Doctor stood there awkwardly as he stared down the barrel of a neon yellow water pistol while Amy squirted his jacket.

"Not... absolutely sure... how long," the Doctor said slowly, bracing himself for the answer.

"Two years," she responded, not lowering the pistol, but she didn't sound angry. She still squirted him another three times for good measure, though.

"Okay," he said, holding his hands up. "Fair point."

"So, you're not dead," she said slowly, lowering the pistol.

"And a happy New Year!" he said with a weak smile.

"River told us," Amy explained, taking a step back. The Doctor sighed.

"Of _course_ she did," he mumbled.

"She's a good girl," Amy defended, still watching him. "Well? I'm not going to hug first." The Doctor tilted his head defiantly.

"Nor am I."

They managed to avoid each others gazes for all of a few seconds before bursting into laughter and hugging each other.

"Mister Pond!" Amy called back into the house. "Guess who's coming for dinner?" Rory came out into the hallway, pausing almost comically when he saw the Doctor.

"Woah! Not dead, then."

"We've done that," Amy clarified. Rory nodded. "We're about to have Christmas dinner. Joining us?" The Doctor froze.

"If it's no trouble..." he said after a moment.

"There's a place set for you," Rory reassured. He had put out the white plate on the blue mat with the polished silverware. At some point they had just put aside that specific set, not letting anyone else use it, holding it for the day when the spot could finally be filled. The Doctor blinked.

"But you didn't know I was coming," he said, confused. "Why would you set me a place?" Amy rolled her eyes.

"Oh, because we always do! It's Christmas, you moron." She started walking back towards the dining room. Rory stepped aside from the doorway.

"Come on," he offered with a smile, nodding to the hall before following his wife.

The Doctor stood in the doorway for a long moment before bringing his hand up to his cheek in confusion. His fingers came away wet.

_Happy tears._


End file.
